The End
by too-much-like-Luna
Summary: Follows Grindelwald from his defeat to Albus to his life imprisonment. "Even though you're the one who stood as victor I have won as well, because you've ensured I'll never be forgotten. You'll remember me, no matter how much you despise yourself for it."


**This fic starts right after Dumbledore manages to defeat Grindelwald, and continues to his imprisonment in Nurmengard. I chose the title because I considered this time to be an end of many things, like the drama between Albus and Grindelwald, Grindelwald's rise to power, and a part of Albus' life.**

**The End**

It is bittersweet, this ending, because part of me has known since you turned your back on our goals and myself that it would have to end this way, with one of us standing victor over the other.

You are no longer the young man I knew, but I can still read you so well. I have kept tabs on you over the years; have read between the lines to the things never picked up on by reporters. I still know more about you than you think. I know you better than you know me. This long drawn out drama between us has occupied more of my thoughts, these past years, than I am willing to admit.

***

The Aurors come, and I can tell how much they respect you. It shows clearly on their faces when they look at the scene of devastation around us, and you standing in the middle, calm and collected. They trust you enough to accept your plea to be the one in charge of my punishment.

It is then that I know I am not going to be killed. That would not be enough closure for you, I know. You'll want me to suffer for what you believe I did to you—not that you'll admit it.

I wonder how you'd react, how the Aurors and other officials crowding around us, eagerly asking questions, would react if I managed to dispel the magical gag you put on me and yelled, "What, don't want to be Master of Death anymore, Albus? Friend of Muggles and Mudbloods now, eh?"

But I don't even try. You are their paragon of light, their physical manifestation of hope. You've never told them of the power you craved, still crave, though in a different manner. Do they know your greatest weakness is power? Do they know what a gifted manipulator you are? Do they know of the great extent of bitterness and hatred you can feel?

I wonder what you would do if I shouted "You are the one who killed her, Albus!" Because I know what your greatest fear is. I am the only one who knows the truth of that day. I've never told you. Odd, that. Apparently I'm not as much a villain as I've been typecast as. But neither are you as much a paragon of light and goodness as you've been typecast as recently.

Have you buried the past? Are the stories of your family buried right next to the ones about me? Do you think that by doing so you can destroy the "weaker" side of you? It'll only come back to haunt you, Albus.

Have you started seeing in black and white, like the good little Gryffindor you are? Do you only see in terms of good and evil, light and dark, with no thought for the grey areas or different intents? Does it scare you when people sentence on actions alone and you feel a surge of irritation at their stupidity? Do you think that it would have been better if you'd never met me, never learnt to think differently?

You use them so effortlessly, Albus, without always being aware of doing so. I must respect you, for that. In fact you are so good at manipulating them that they don't notice it, being too busy making sure all the plans are up to your standards. You have power. You have outstripped me, loathe though my pride is to admit it. I am proud of you, for that. You have nearly everything I offered you once, and you got it by yourself. You are their leader. I will not tell them of your past. There is nothing for me to gain by doing so, not anymore. It'll be our little secret. We'll carry it to our graves, without anyone else ever knowing the true you. Perhaps after your death the great Albus Dumbledore will be picked apart, your flaws shown. Will they love and respect you anyway? You said you loved me, before. Do you blame me for your broken heart?

*****

Nurmengard, Albus? I am proud of your choice of punishment. Alone, I have no one to tell your secrets to. Even the dead can tell tales. Do you expect me to repent in there? Is this a last ditch effort to turn me against my chosen path, even if I shall never be released? Or am I correct in thinking the part of you that no one but me knows chose this punishment to make me suffer?

Despite your new stance, your new life, your new motivations, the new self-confidence I had been nurturing, and which has now grown without my help, you are still so very much you, despite how you try to hide it. No one else will ever know you as I do. There will always be a side of you missing, a part of your history no one else will be able to touch, because that is what you've chosen. That part will be with me. Even though you're the one who stood in victory I have won as well, because you have ensured that I'll never be forgotten.

Do you realize I surrendered? Now I'll just be another part in the history of your life they will undoubtedly write upon your death. Will anyone besides the two of us ever know the full extent of what happened between us? In the history books I will be typecast as the villain, you the hero. They will never examine the you of yester-years. They will always think in terms of black and white, not allowing for grey, or opinions different then their own. They will never consider that we all have dark in us. You will one day be the stuff of legends, and yes, I'm envious of you for it.

***

I am not surprised when you escort me to my prison. You are determined to end a chapter of your story, after all. You think that when you shut the door you can forget everything between us. You think that once the Wizarding World has a chance to re-organize and forget about me, you will too.

It won't work. I am a part of you. You'll think of me whenever you hear of Beedle the Bard, whenever you see an Invisibility Cloak. Will you use the Elder Wand as your own? That would remind you of me. But you can be incredibly self punishing. Will you think that by using my wand and doing good you can somehow repent for what you see as your dark side? You'll think of me whenever someone says the word Muggle, whenever you think of your childhood, whenever you see a candy; because any type will remind you of the times we spent together, digesting way too many sweets.

I wonder whether they'll put you on a Chocolate Frog card. You've always had a disturbing affinity for those. (My favorite was always lemon drops. We used to have contests to see who could eat the most, remember?) Will your victory over me be in your list of accomplishments? Will young children learn to think in terms of black and white from looking at a card that will say how good you are, and how bad I am?

You look at me before closing the door that will never again be opened in my lifetime. Your eyes are full of too many emotions for me to read them, even if I tried. You look at the grey walls and grey floor before turning those blue eyes upon me one last time. "Good-bye, Gellert," you say, and then you turn and the grey door closes behind you, ending my chapter in your story.

I never broke your heart. You did that yourself. But which of us broke mine?

Fin.


End file.
